The Wild Iris Poem by Louise Gluck
The Wild Iris
At the end of my suffering
there was a door.
Hear me out: that which you call death
I remember.
Overhead, noises, branches of the pine shifting.
Then nothing. The weak sun
flickered over the dry surface.
It is terrible to survive
as consciousness
buried in the dark earth.
Then it was over: that which you fear, being
a soul and unable
to speak, ending abruptly, the stiff earth
bending a little. And what I took to be
birds darting in low shrubs.
You who do not remember
passage from the other world
I tell you I could speak again: whatever
returns from oblivion returns
to find a voice:
from the center of my life came
a great fountain, deep blue
shadows on azure seawater.
This poem could be read much better than this. The reader sounds like a robot, with no feeling.
Words greater as great as its writer, This poets masterpiece, Brilliant genius,
Amazing poem of greatest subjects, This is greatest poetic gem, dear great Poetess! What I most respected in you, is your evident great talent to create narrative poems. I like them very much. By narrations your poems come to life, Each poem you created IS alive. A poem's format causes the whole change in the attitude of the poem. Those are amazing words that come to LIVE. I truly enjoyed your poems and I still do. Fantastic poetic true words ALIVE.5 Stars Full Vote!
It is terrible to survive as consciousness buried in the dark earth.....great write; the suffering of the death in every sense of life is active; There is pain in the veins of death consciousness, misery in the veins; No one wants to accept that. Even after this, everyone has to be the victim of that inevitable dirty inspiration. End comes for the dead and the earth survives, the sunlight lit up the entire just as before; Nature moves at its own pace. Loved ones like that......
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12/12/2024 11:39:20 AM # 1.0.0
My god! It’s a Pulitzer winner. Might i suggest it’s more than interesting. Read it again! And again.
'Interesting poem' is at least a meatier observation than 'It's a Pulitzer winner, ' Bob.